A Thousand Years
by Unworthy
Summary: Sylar's car trip with Luke was infuriating in that each thing the boy said would remind him of another car ride... Mylar. T for some language and implied sexual situations.


God fucking dammit. Would this kid ever shut the hell up? I mean, seriously, was I this awful when I was a teenager? I really can't imagine that I was. Not _this _bad. The way he jibber-jabbers about everything under the sun as if I gave a shit about his 'witty' observations on life…it drives me absolutely insane.

"…which has led me to my final conclusion: People suck."

"All of them?" Oh, why was I indulging this brat?

"Well, no, not all of them. I suppose that there is some good in someone, somewhere. Like you, for instance. You're somewhat good."

If he'd been annoying me before, it paled in comparison to that little gem. I'm _not_ one of the fucking good guys. I turned to him, taking my eyes off the road for a brief moment. "I'm not good, Luke. We've been over this a million god damn times already. I didn't save your sorry ass just for the sake of saving your sorry ass. As it is right now, you're necessary. As soon as you're no longer necessary, you'll be out of my hair, for good. Got that?"

He said nothing, but pouted a little bit. Maybe I had finally shut him up. Thank God. And then…his little cheese-grater-to-the-brain voice started up again.

"You know, I think that you're just pretending to be bad." I opened my mouth to provide a retort, but he continued. "There's good in everyone."

"_There's good in everyone, you know." He brushed his hair off of his forehead and continued to look at the menu of the small roadside diner. Mohinder Suresh. Good God._

"_But don't you think that there's ever a person –one person, out of the six billion on Earth- who is just bad?" He was so god damn beautiful. I picked up my menu and looked at the gravy-drowned dishes._

"_No, Zane, I don't. There is at least a single speck of light in everyone, no matter how dark they may seem." Those words, those eloquent, precious words that dropped from his mouth as if rehearsed, filled me with madness and infuriation._

"_No, Dr. Suresh, you're wrong. The things people do…" He cut me off._

"_Zane, what could be so awful as to deplete the human soul of any goodness?"_

"_I wish that I could tell you."_

I snapped out of it. How long ago had that been? It felt like a thousand years. I remembered the day quite clearly –pleasantly cool, a hint of clouds. I remembered _him _quite clearly, too. Mohinder Suresh, the most enthralling of all the enthralling people I've met. I remembered the last time we'd met, too –the sharp pain that came from his hands thrusting my skull against the ground. Mohinder Suresh –The One Who Got Away. Good God.

I soon realized that Luke was staring at me. "What? What do you want now?" I growled. He blinked.

"You're not as tough as you seem." He began with a trace of fear in his voice. "In fact, I'd say that, deep down, you're just running scared like everyone else. You're more like me than you know. Sylar, have you ever been in love?"

"_Zane, have you ever loved anyone?" Mohinder spoke with grace. It was very late…or very early, depending on how you looked at it. The two of us were reluctant to acknowledge the deed that we'd done in the dingy hotel room. It wasn't just sex, I told myself. It's never just sex._

"_Not…not in recent memory, no." The man I'd known for literally under seventy-two hours tried futilely to hide the look of hurt on his face as he stood up to button his shirt. The springy bed's mattress slowly filled in the depression that his body had made. As if anything could ever take his place. I reluctantly stood up from the bed and began dressing, also._

_I wished that I hadn't said no._

_That day's drive was…quiet, full of heavy regret that tainted the air._

This kid was an idiot. I hated him. I mean, _really_ hated him. Who was he to ask me about love? I mean, how old was he? Sixteen? Old enough to bitch and whine, for sure, but probably not old enough to recognize how futile love is. It's a waste of goddamn time. This kid… This kid was looking at me now, expecting a soliloquy. He needs to learn to deal with disappointment.

"No," Was my artless answer. Who does this kid think he is, anyway?

"I think that you have. I think that you've loved someone. A lot, actually, so much so that you-"

"Would you shut the _fuck_ up already, Mohinder? I don't…" I stopped yelling, the words dying in my dry mouth. I pressed my lips together, licked them, and allowed my mouth to open again, if only for the purpose of taking in a deep breath.

After a long pause, the idiot kid started talking again.

"Who's Mohinder?"

I slowly allowed my foot to become leaden, depressing the gas pedal, speeding up the car. In the rear view mirror I could see dust following us.

The little idiot who can't take a damn hint repeated his question.

"_Who's Mohinder?"_

I said nothing for a long time. Finally, I spoke with heavy words.

"He's…no one, Luke. No one at all, okay? Quit asking so many questions."

And for once, the kid obeyed. I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. He started to mumble something. I didn't ask for him to repeat himself.


End file.
